Some Sketches

[Andyman]

Yesterday three men were sentenced to hang on their crosses. The wife of the emperor wanted to visit our town and the praetor decided to make an ornament at the city gate for this holiday of the naked bodies of condemned criminals. I found this idea very wise and funny. But something went wrong and the main person to be crucified - the robbers' chief Athanius - unexpectedly died before the ceremony begun. There were no other men in prison this day but only two females: me and my pal. We were arrested two days ago because we were thought to be responsible for the issuing of false rumors about the empress visit. Of course we were not, as the interrogation confirmed, and the praetor decided to free us today. The soldiers came for us at the sunrise to lead us out of the prison gate. But instead of setting us free from the shackles they begun watching us carefully and finally the commanding officer said, pointing at me with his finger, "This boobs are pretty big, she will do better." I didn't undertand him and I thought it was rather rude but soon I realised that they wanted me to do something for them at the city gate - maybe sing or dance at the empress arrival, I thought. They knew I could dance and sing very well! So they set us free and they led me to the gate where all the patricians waited for the empress. I noticed many of my friends too, standing at the opposite side, and my brother and sister with her husband. The men condemned to death were just nailed to the crosses, they were nude with their weenies exposed, so I started to laugh at them because they were so funny and looked dumb with their weenies hanging. I noticed of course that the cross in the middle was empty. I was curious and I asked the officer what they were going to do with the lacking criminal, but he told me to prepare myself to the belly dance so I took off my dress and now I was wearing only a pearl and silver brocaded loincloth so for the moment I covered nipples of my naked breasts with palms, and in the same moment I was punched in face twice and the soldiers grabbed my hands from behind and the officer untied my loincloth leaving me naked, and then they forced me to lie on the ground and I lied down crying with pain and shame, but before I could realize what they were going to do, sharp spikes pierced my wrists. I was totally shocked with an unexpected, horrid pain, and I started to scream loudly and to uncontrollably pissing myself but they didn't even wait till I finished and I felt I was lifted to the top of the stipes still peeing and just after I finished they hammered my feet together. "I am innocent, why do you want to kill me!?", I yelled, and the officer answered me "Yes, you are. So, you will die innocent!", and laughed and then I noticed that everyone were extremely curious and begun to talk about me and to show me to one another with their fingers and commenting my feminine rounds. Hearing their rude words and laughter - although I was dying with pain - I realized once again that I was naked and I begun to weep and sob, and I was weeping for a long time so I didn't notice that the empress' procession arrived and that she halted the procession and now she was standing with her maids and attendants looking at us and especially at me and I felt I was dying with the utmost shame, and she asked the officer about something but I overheard the question and his answer, but then she turned her head and shouted loudly to her cortage: "See and remember how the Rome punishes the criminals!" and then I tried to tell her, still sobing, "I am not a criminal, your highness, please, have mercy on me!", and she heard me and ordered the officer to punish my impudence and he got closer to me and smited my face with his sword's head, nearly breaking my jaw. Stunned with this new pain I didn't notice that it was only a prelude to the really monstrous punishment because they begun to put some heavy packages under my feet and just after half a minute more when I saw the flames shooting around me and I felt my legs and buttocks and vulva and belly were burning I realized they wanted to burn me alive! I was writhing and crying and shouting and I heard them laughing at me and it was torment unbearable and it lasted for a long, long time of the most painful torture I ever experienced and finally I felt that my legs gave way and they could hold me no longer and I slipped down to the roaring flames and I felt that my ass and my genitals are being roasted and my breasts and face scorched and I am no longer a woman but an enormous burning pile of pain, and when all my body turned into the boiling, bubbling and smoking unrecognizable mass of roasted, blackened, stinking meat in a shape of a woman, according to the empress' wish, I lost conciousness for the last time in my life.

 

[phlebas]

I know I am nothing special to you. You are experienced spectators. You saw many crucified beauties, many exposed breasts and vulvas, many weeping and yelling condemned slave girls dying in shame and pain. So the girl like me tied to the wood - even not nailed! - is not worth your attention. I am not pretty. You saw many sexier women condemned to the cross. I am not writhing in pain. My breasts are ugly and not mutilated. My crotch is not wet with your seed. And I am not covered with blood dripping from the wounds and from my scourged back. So I know I am nothing special for you. But for me being crucified is totally new experience and the worst nightmare. I was sentenced to death for the deeds I never did. I was unclothed by the strangers and publicly exposed for the first time in my life. It is my breasts and my vulva being touched and watched by everyone who wants to. My tongue is stiff with thirst and my stomach is aching with hunger. I am burned by the sun and bitten by flies. It's my fragile crotch which is supported with crude piece of plank full of splinters. And my heart is filled with fear of death, hopelessness, despair and the deepest shame. My death for you will be only like getting rid of some nameless ugly creature but for me it will be my own death and the end of my world. Still I try to be a brave girl and not to cry. But for you I am only a worthless slut, cursed by gods and expulsed from the society. So, visitors, I beg you: go where you planned to go before you met me and stop staring at my naked, starving body and my naked, tormented soul. Go in peace, and let me die in peace.

This is a powerful piece of writing, Andyman. I've always been interested in the victim's perspective. I think you capture it absolutely beautifully here, a very moving piece which I feel takes the accompanying pic to a whole new level, the story of a hopeless and abandoned woman of no account to anyone but herself.
"Still I try to be a brave girl and not to cry"

 

[Andyman]

This is a powerful piece of writing, Andyman. I've always been interested in the victim's perspective. I think you capture it absolutely beautifully here, a very moving piece which I feel takes the accompanying pic to a whole new level, the story of a hopeless and abandoned woman of no account to anyone but herself.
"Still I try to be a brave girl and not to cry"

I was myself very much interested in the victim's point of view too and I often tried to catch her feelings and emotions. Some of them were probably the same for a crucified man and woman (for example physical pain response when nailed), but the remaining are the area of speculations (including the sexual response for the non-sexual stimula like impaling the clitoris, which are total phantasies). But I was ever curious how the female victim could bear the pain and humiliation. On the CF there are many women and they openly write about their feelings and emotions but they are mostly not virgins and they are familiar with bdsm techniques. But how to recognize the feelings and emotions of a shy virgin or a victorian-type of matron - a prudish wife and mater of children, being forcibly stripped naked in public or gang raped? Especially if she knows that she will be executed soon? So it is possible that my descriptions, albeit fascinating, could be totally wrong...

 

[Andyman]

I loved Daria, a young cook, so much, but when our master died of indigestion she was accused by the widow of poisoning her master and sentenced to death. I was able to do nothing to help her. She was crucified and I was forced to watch her punishment together with other slaves from our household. But when we returned to the villa I came up with the idea. It required some preparations but they are easy to do. Next morning I was ready and I left my work (they could count me as a runaway slave but I would finish my plans before they could interrupt me). I went to the execution site where my beloved was dying in pain guarded by two armed soldiers all the time and I kissed her. She was impaled with a short thick pole, supporting her hips to prolong her torment to the limit by these sadists but now I knew how to spoil their good time. The soldiers thought that I simply want to abuse the crucified woman, which was permitted and recommended, so they let me in. And then I kissed my beloved with a long, deep kiss. After half a minute the soldiers ordered me to step back. "Is this slut your lover? The consolation of the condemned is prohibited!", they told me. But my plan was fulfilled. They didn't realized that I had mouth full of extremely toxic berries and during our kiss Daria, however surprised, trusted me and ate half of them. And I swallowed the remaining ones. Now they could do nothing to me nor to my beloved. We knew we would meet one another in the underworld in five minutes...

 

[Migoz2]

I loved Daria, a young cook, so much, but when our master died of indigestion she was accused by the widow of poisoning her master and sentenced to death. I was able to do nothing to help her. She was crucified and I was forced to watch her punishment together with other slaves from our household. But when we returned to the villa I came up with the idea. It required some preparations but they are easy to do. Next morning I was ready and I left my work (they could count me as a runaway slave but I would finish my plans before they could interrupt me). I went to the execution site where my beloved was dying in pain guarded by two armed soldiers all the time and I kissed her. She was impaled with a short thick pole, supporting her hips to prolong her torment to the limit by these sadists but now I knew how to spoil their good time. The soldiers thought that I simply want to abuse the crucified woman, which was permitted and recommended, so they let me in. And then I kissed my beloved with a long, deep kiss. After half a minute the soldiers ordered me to step back. "Is this slut your lover? The consolation of the condemned is prohibited!", they told me. But my plan was fulfilled. They didn't realized that I had mouth full of extremely toxic berries and during our kiss Daria, however surprised, trusted me and ate half of them. And I swallowed the remaining ones. Now they could do nothing to me nor to my beloved. We knew we would meet one another in the underworld in five minutes...

CF romanticism at its best

 

[Aedile]

Few ancient ladies (on the left), folkwomen (in the middle) and barbarians (on the right) hanged for a day to get wise. I don't know what kind of malice or stupidity they represented but the praefectus decided that they should be given 24 hours for rethinking things over. The slave women involved in the same matter are not shown on the sketch, because they probably wouldn't get wise, given that they were nailed and assumed not to be removed from their crosses alive.

“I am going to have such a horrible tan line for our trip to Pompeii next week!”

 

[Aedile]

I loved Daria, a young cook, so much, but when our master died of indigestion she was accused by the widow of poisoning her master and sentenced to death. I was able to do nothing to help her. She was crucified and I was forced to watch her punishment together with other slaves from our household. But when we returned to the villa I came up with the idea. It required some preparations but they are easy to do. Next morning I was ready and I left my work (they could count me as a runaway slave but I would finish my plans before they could interrupt me). I went to the execution site where my beloved was dying in pain guarded by two armed soldiers all the time and I kissed her. She was impaled with a short thick pole, supporting her hips to prolong her torment to the limit by these sadists but now I knew how to spoil their good time. The soldiers thought that I simply want to abuse the crucified woman, which was permitted and recommended, so they let me in. And then I kissed my beloved with a long, deep kiss. After half a minute the soldiers ordered me to step back. "Is this slut your lover? The consolation of the condemned is prohibited!", they told me. But my plan was fulfilled. They didn't realized that I had mouth full of extremely toxic berries and during our kiss Daria, however surprised, trusted me and ate half of them. And I swallowed the remaining ones. Now they could do nothing to me nor to my beloved. We knew we would meet one another in the underworld in five minutes...

Getting one last feel of her ass, I see. I approve.

I also like how you drew her feet nailed at different heights. Little touches like that show your mastery of little details!

 

[Cella]

Very erotic. Clearly Marcella is a lost cause, a hopeless case. The cross has her and it will never let her go.



Rufus is too busy, as it that were possibly, the lazy bastard! Too busy to come with me again to the execution place. More women are being crucified today, and I have to be there, I am drawn, powerless. To see such beauty, to see their delicate feminine figures stretched and naked, it makes me feel weak in the legs. I admit it, something has got inside me and I must go again, to see those soft curves writhe so helplessly against the harsh wood, to hear them voice their pain and despair, it tears at me and yet arouses something deep inside.

And even more, I feel hope. Hope that I will see her again, the girl from last time. The girl who seemed as captivated as I am now, desire written plain on her face, in her body language. I will look for her, my eyes sweeping over the crowd almost as must as they take in the suffering victims. I find myself wondering what she would look like under her clothes, how she would look nailed against the wood, whether she would scream out or accept her fate with resignation or even courage.

I find myself wondering . . . . how desperately she wants to know the answer to those questions herself? Maybe together we can find the answers? My heart races at the thought!

The day for the scheduled executions has arrived! I’m up early because I want to be at the execution site when the condemned are crucified. I want to see them nailed to their crosses and not arrive after they’ve been raised up. I know that sounds very perverse, to want to see people nailed to crosses, but my fantasizing about what it must feel like to be stretched over a cross nailed to it is such an intense part of my personal fantasy. I hope the crowds are not too large as I want to watch the whole terrible, bloody process from the beginning. Both the men and the women scheduled for execution—I want to see it all.

I bring my knife with me, for protection. Strapped around my waist, under my clothes. It’s not a big knife, rather small, actually. But exceedingly sharp! Anyone who fucks with me will feel it slicing into him!

I got there later than I wanted. Shit! The men—ten of them—were already nailed to their crosses and hanging. I missed the part I wanted to see, but at least the women had not arrived yet. I would see them crucified yet. For now, I mixed in with the other spectators. The men are a mixed lot. Two grizzled and old, the leaders of a crime family I was told. The rest middle aged. But there is one young man, quite lovely and well-muscled. Much like one of the fantasy men I dream of who I invite between my legs to fuck me. The young man’s cock is quite erect (well, at least as well as a virgin can assess the proper erectness for a cock). His body is so beautiful! I want to mount him, wrap my legs around him as he hangs there and fuck him myself. I’m getting very aroused seeing the blood and the horrible wounds. Why? Why? What is wrong with me? I’m confusing my fantasies with real life!

I close my eyes and see myself crucified, naked on a cross, as in my dream. My body is all stretched out and straining against the huge nails pounded through me. My legs are spread to expose my pussy. My breasts are pulled high on my chest and bobble as I try to move. I should be humiliated but I’m not. The spectators are looking up at me, saying filthy things about me, but I don’t care. I’m smiling as I feel the inexpressible pleasure of hanging naked and exposed. I look down between my breasts to the ground beneath me, to see my feet nailed. Then up to observe my nailed wrists. But I don’t care—I’m in ecstasy!

My eyes fly open. The young man is still crucified in front of me. His erect cock is bobbling up and down as he groans in agony. He looks at me. I so wish he could be the man who takes my virginity! I want to be with him, but that’s impossible. Impulsively I pull the top of my tunic down and expose my breasts to him. His eyes open wide--as they should! I have great tits!

Suddenly embarrassed I pull my tunic top back over my exposed breasts. Has anyone seen me? Perhaps not. The spectators have all moved away from the crucified men. I hear shouting. The women are here! The spectators are all standing in front of the crosses laid out on the ground for the women. Three crosses for three women. I squirm through the packed spectators to get to the front. The naked women are already lying on their crosses. One older woman and two younger ones. A mother and her two daughters? Perhaps so. I watch as they are nailed and raised up. Their screams are truly pitiable. Yet I’m excited to see them hanging in front of me. I’m so excited. My cunnus gets wet and my nipples hard. My fantasy is real in front of me. Now, if only I could join them!

My full attention is focused on the freshly crucified women as they groan and squirm on their crosses. They youngest seems my age. Quite pretty with a slender figure and pert breasts. The older daughter or sister or whoever she is looks to be in her mid to late twenties. She has a fuller figure, very curvaceous with big breasts. The motherly-looking woman, still very attractive in her own right, hangs in the middle. The three are like some of the women from the baths whom I imagined crucified. I can’t take my eyes off them. They are so beautiful hanging there with their arms stretched out to the crossbeams and their legs down to the uprights of their crosses. Their trembling breasts are thrust forward at the jeering spectators. Their pussies, too, are obscenely displayed. My heart is pounding, and the familiar warmth fills my loins. I’d masturbate right here, now, in front of them, if I could.

It’s then I feel the presence of someone very close behind me. A man! I feel his arms around my waist. I’m terrified and can’t get to my knife! He pulls me against his body. I feel something poking into the small of my back. Oh shit! It’s his cock, his erect cock! I try to squirm away, but he holds me tightly. I feel one hand reach up to grab at my breasts, squeezing them and stroking my tumescent nipples.

“Ah,” he says quietly in my ear. “I knew your tits would feel like this! So full and soft! Great nipples too.”

I’m certain it’s one of the men who tried to approach me last week. I spit my words at him. “What the fuck do you want? I have a knife, and I’ll use it!”

Still, very softly speaking in my ear, he says while stroking my nipples, “I can see you are quite excited by this spectacle, aren’t you? So am I, as I'm sure you can tell. We should enjoy it together, don’t you think?”

All the I can think of right now is cutting this bastard’s throat! Or stabbing his belly. If only I could get to my knife!

 

[phlebas]

The day for the scheduled executions has arrived! I’m up early because I want to be at the execution site when the condemned are crucified. I want to see them nailed to their crosses and not arrive after they’ve been raised up. I know that sounds very perverse, to want to see people nailed to crosses, but my fantasizing about what it must feel like to be stretched over a cross nailed to it is such an intense part of my personal fantasy. I hope the crowds are not too large as I want to watch the whole terrible, bloody process from the beginning. Both the men and the women scheduled for execution—I want to see it all.

I bring my knife with me, for protection. Strapped around my waist, under my clothes. It’s not a big knife, rather small, actually. But exceedingly sharp! Anyone who fucks with me will feel it slicing into him!

I got there later than I wanted. Shit! The men—ten of them—were already nailed to their crosses and hanging. I missed the part I wanted to see, but at least the women had not arrived yet. I would see them crucified yet. For now, I mixed in with the other spectators. The men are a mixed lot. Two grizzled and old, the leaders of a crime family I was told. The rest middle aged. But there is one young man, quite lovely and well-muscled. Much like one of the fantasy men I dream of who I invite between my legs to fuck me. The young man’s cock is quite erect (well, at least as well as a virgin can assess the proper erectness for a cock). His body is so beautiful! I want to mount him, wrap my legs around him as he hangs there and fuck him myself. I’m getting very aroused seeing the blood and the horrible wounds. Why? Why? What is wrong with me? I’m confusing my fantasies with real life!

I close my eyes and see myself crucified, naked on a cross, as in my dream. My body is all stretched out and straining against the huge nails pounded through me. My legs are spread to expose my pussy. My breasts are pulled high on my chest and bobble as I try to move. I should be humiliated but I’m not. The spectators are looking up at me, saying filthy things about me, but I don’t care. I’m smiling as I feel the inexpressible pleasure of hanging naked and exposed. I look down between my breasts to the ground beneath me, to see my feet nailed. Then up to observe my nailed wrists. But I don’t care—I’m in ecstasy!

My eyes fly open. The young man is still crucified in front of me. His erect cock is bobbling up and down as he groans in agony. He looks at me. I so wish he could be the man who takes my virginity! I want to be with him, but that’s impossible. Impulsively I pull the top of my tunic down and expose my breasts to him. His eyes open wide--as they should! I have great tits!

Suddenly embarrassed I pull my tunic top back over my exposed breasts. Has anyone seen me? Perhaps not. The spectators have all moved away from the crucified men. I hear shouting. The women are here! The spectators are all standing in front of the crosses laid out on the ground for the women. Three crosses for three women. I squirm through the packed spectators to get to the front. The naked women are already lying on their crosses. One older woman and two younger ones. A mother and her two daughters? Perhaps so. I watch as they are nailed and raised up. Their screams are truly pitiable. Yet I’m excited to see them hanging in front of me. I’m so excited. My cunnus gets wet and my nipples hard. My fantasy is real in front of me. Now, if only I could join them!

View attachment 781435 My full attention is focused on the freshly crucified women as they groan and squirm on their crosses. They youngest seems my age. Quite pretty with a slender figure and pert breasts. The older daughter or sister or whoever she is looks to be in her mid to late twenties. She has a fuller figure, very curvaceous with big breasts. The motherly-looking woman, still very attractive in her own right, hangs in the middle. The three are like some of the women from the baths whom I imagined crucified. I can’t take my eyes off them. They are so beautiful hanging there with their arms stretched out to the crossbeams and their legs down to the uprights of their crosses. Their trembling breasts are thrust forward at the jeering spectators. Their pussies, too, are obscenely displayed. My heart is pounding, and the familiar warmth fills my loins. I’d masturbate right here, now, in front of them, if I could.

It’s then I feel the presence of someone very close behind me. A man! I feel his arms around my waist. I’m terrified and can’t get to my knife! He pulls me against his body. I feel something poking into the small of my back. Oh shit! It’s his cock, his erect cock! I try to squirm away, but he holds me tightly. I feel one hand reach up to grab at my breasts, squeezing them and stroking my tumescent nipples.

“Ah,” he says quietly in my ear. “I knew your tits would feel like this! So full and soft! Great nipples too.”

I’m certain it’s one of the men who tried to approach me last week. I spit my words at him. “What the fuck do you want? I have a knife, and I’ll use it!”

Still, very softly speaking in my ear, he says while stroking my nipples, “I can see you are quite excited by this spectacle, aren’t you? So am I, as I'm sure you can tell. We should enjoy it together, don’t you think?”

All the I can think of right now is cutting this bastard’s throat! Or stabbing his belly. If only I could get to my knife!

There is a full program today, a number of men and some women too, all for the cross. I settle in, watching the men naled and raised, scanning the crowd for her, the woman from yesterday. Most of the men are nothing remarkable, mature criminal types, tough but no Greek gods! One though, a younger man, has a trim strong figure, good looking, I bet he was a favourite with the girls! I watch him struggle against the executioners, vigorous, wanting to live. Ha! The activity gets his blood pumping, so by the time he is raised and hanging his cock is stiff, nodding at all the girls who have come to get an eyeful of his nakedness.

And yes, there she is. The little slut is captivated by the beauty of the crucified stud, she stands there gawping at his muscles, at his erect but useless manhood. Now she has her eyes closed, she must be fantasizing that cock between her legs, maybe even imagining herself up there with him. Shameless. I move closer while she isn't looking, while she is distracted by her own lustful thoughts. Then I am astounded to see her flash her tits at the crucified man. Right here in public, and I am the only one to see it! Not bad tits either, it leaves me wanting to get my hands on whatever else she's hiding under those clothes.

But now they bring out the women for crucifixion. An older woman and two younger ones. I keep an eye on the girl while watching them strip, nail and raise these three unfortunates. There naked bodies, their pitiful cries and helpless writhing bring mixed feelings to me, I feel sorry for them and aroused by them in almost equal measure. The way they move on their crosses, legs opening and closing, breasts swaying, gasping and sobbing - it is an erotic dance with the added drama that this is to the death. We, strangers to them, will be the last to enjoy their nakedness, to witness their bodies and souls stripped bare, to see them soil themselves and beg for mercy. Raw, and powerful, my heart is beating faster now, my own cock like the young man's, hard, but hidden by my robes!

I see the girl is still here, she is completely entranced by the suffering naked women in front of her. I'm sure she wants to join them, wants to be naked and exposed just like them, I can see it in her eyes. I bet she is wet, too, her hands keep moving as if to touch herself, then stop.

Now is the time. I am close, so close, I move in and put my arms around her slim waist, pull her close. Let me feel those breasts she was showing of so brazenly, yes, a nice handful, beautiful. She feels good pressed against me, so good, but she squirms in my grasp.

“Ah,” I whisper in her ear. “I knew your tits would feel like this! So full and soft! Great nipples too.”

“What the fuck do you want? I have a knife, and I’ll use it!”

She is spirited, excited by the crucifixions, by the nearness of death and pain. I stroke her nipples, hard under my finger, and say:
“I can see you are quite excited by this spectacle, aren’t you? So am I, as I'm sure you can tell. We should enjoy it together, don’t you think?”

There is no way I can let her go now without fucking her, I feel myself pressing into her back , I know she is aroused I can just about smell it on her! But part of me wonders still, if we go somewhere quiet, if she is honest with herself, maybe she would like to explore crucifixion with me, just the two of us? Imagine her stretched out on a cross on the ground, arms wide, breasts heaving, thighs spread and welcoming . . . . . . by all the gods where am I going with this?

"Come with me, you know you want to, you know you need to!"
With a last glance at the crucified women I steer her towards a quiet side street for a nice chat, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement.

 

[Andyman]

And who is the romantic one here?

 

[Aedile]

Marcella suddenly awakes and sits up in her bed. Her naked body is covered with sweat. It’s evening and a cool breeze is coming in through the window. She falls back, exhausted. She is trembling with unrelieved sexual energy. She spreads her legs and she furiously masturbates, bringing herself to a full, powerful orgasm that leaves her exhausted and sexually spent. She quickly falls back asleep and dreams again.

 

[Barbaria1]

View attachment 781718View attachment 781719View attachment 781720View attachment 781722View attachment 781724

Nothing like a good pillow!

 

[Andyman]

A family portrait.

 

[Barbaria1]

A family portrait.

Expressing their sorrows and goodbyes over a wayward daughter?

 

[twonines]

Nothing like a good pillow!

Two excellent pillows, in fact.

 

[Andyman]

From the left to the right:

Expressing their sorrows and goodbyes over a wayward daughter?

Something of a kind. A prodigal daughter.

 

[Andyman]

From the left to the right:
Iosaphat: "I often knew Deborah would reach the top! Hahahaha!"
Moshe: "Oh, holy shit! But I'm lucky! It's aunt Deborah, and she is naked, with her cunt and everything...!"
Rebecca: "Oh, gods, my poor, poor sister...!"
Rosa: "Mother... why did you trust to these strange men? You told me we would be ever rich and free from any problems since today... What shall I do now without you? And I could do nothing to help you..."
Deborah: "Oh... Aphrodite... let... me... die... quick... I... beg... you... Aaaaaahhhh!"

 

[Andyman]

The first minute.

The nails have just been hammered into your wrists. Few strong blows. Five seconds, maybe ten. Few more seconds and you are hanging on the wounded hands. Imagine the pain in wrists and discomfort of a forced body position. You MUST hang on them whatever you will do. Few more seconds and your feet are nailed to the post. Now you could give to your wrists a short rest, moving your body weight to the feet but with your knees bent it is difficult to keep this pose and exhausting and no less painful in fact, so soon you are hanging on your wrists again. Could you withstand such a pain? Imagine withstanding this torment for ten seconds. Or thirty. And now for a minute. I am sure that after a minute of such a torture of hanging with no crotch support you will have enough of this pain. You will forget about your nakedness and who is watching you. Your only thought is to stop the pain. But it is not a bdsm photo session. It is your execution. There is no friends. No doctor. No rescue. You can do exactly nothing to halt the torment. You simply MUST be hanging and suffering.

And it was only one minute of your agony. The very first minute. And not the worst one at all!

Could you imagine suffering here for another minute? And one more? Five minutes maybe? Or ten minutes more? Or thirty? Sixty? One hundred minutes? Two, three, five hundreds? Or maybe a thousand?

But it's only one minute. Imagine: one minute out of approximately TEN THOUSAND minutes of an unbearable suffering you have been sentenced to.

 

[crumera]

Suffering 10,000 minutes thats almost 7 days.
Doubt if that's possible for the average person to survive that long.

But yeah 1 minute is imagineable, after 1440 minutes(1 day) quite a lot of the victims minds will be effectively destroyed.
even if their body is still breathing.

Gives the uncrucified mind something to think about.
Thanks for your sketches, stories and thoughts.

 

[Andyman]

I am really, really furious. Am I a worthless slave or a suburban slut!? The judge even didn't told me what sentence he put on the titulus plank but gave it to the officer. He was a trusted emperor's courtier sent here to detect high treason criminals so he had special prerogatives. I was sure that I would pay few gold coins and everything would be done. But this damned lawyer wanted to humiliate me publicly! Oh, I know him well! Once he wanted to marry me and I refused, so he simply took his revenge on me now! They lead me to the center of the city and they dared to have me tied to the pillory - a pair of posts in the very middle of the biggest square in the temple district - exactly at the same time when the prayers to Dionizos in the great temple have been being finishing and hundreds of the citizent shall soon crowd the square. And they dared to have stripped me naked...! Me! The second or third richest woman in the city! And now the onlookers are slowly collecting around me eager to watch my nakedness and shame, damned wretched beggars and sluts! And the soldiers are ready to scourge me with their five-tailed whips with heavy lead weights... Shit! I suppose I will never cure scares! And they are standing on both sides of the pillory...so they want to scourge not only my back but my breasts and belly and...shiiiit! I will kill this judge when I recover!!!

And now the crowd is thick and the first soldier have taken a swing and a first blow of lead balls have hit my breasts and face. I have heard the cheering crowd and I have tried to turn my head away to avoid the horrid pain and then I have seen... NOOO!!! ...the patibulum lying on the pavement just behind me and in the blink of an eye I have lost all hope and my heart sank. I have hung on my hands limply and I have tried no longer to keep my dignity and defend my body against heavy blows massacring my buttocks, belly, nipples, and cunt and face. I am no longer a rich citizen. I am a worthless slave and slut myself. I will die on the cross!!!

Covered with blood and half-dead of pain due to the powerful blows I am still hearing the cheering men and women around me and a laughing man in a lawyer's toga who looks very happy to have his revenge on me being fulfilled.